


Solid Alibi

by LadyDrace



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Anxiety Attacks, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 11:30:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11103675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDrace/pseuds/LadyDrace
Summary: Derek makes horrible life choices. It's Grandma Hale's fault, really.OrStiles is Derek's fake boyfriend who maybe isn't so fake after all.





	Solid Alibi

**Author's Note:**

  * For [petiot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/petiot/gifts).



> This is a birthday present for the lovely Pyu, who dropped the bomb on me literally the day before that it was her birthday, which is uncool, bro. So this is late and rushed, and you have only yourself to blame.
> 
> That said, HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Hope you had an excellent weekend. <3
> 
> Betaed by my homie Fenellah. I'm sorry I ignored so many of your suggestions. I love you, really. 

”So, Stiles,” Talia says, and Derek stops chewing his potatoes. Because every time his mother addresses Stiles directly, Derek is half sure that this is it. This is the moment someone is gonna figure out that Stiles is in fact not his boyfriend at all but merely an acquaintance, willing to play the part in exchange for...

 

Well. Derek isn't entirely sure, actually, since he rejected Derek's offer to pay him.

 

Stiles claims he's doing it mostly for _fun_ , which just goes to show how different he is from Derek, because to _Derek_ it's a nerve-wracking experience, and he wouldn't even have considered it if his grandma hadn't decided on some whim of her aging brain that all her grandchildren should be happily married before she died. After half a dozen introductions to various grandchildren of old friends, bridge buddies, or whoever Grandma met in her geriatric day to day life, Derek had finally had enough.

 

He would have kept the deception to Grandma only if he'd thought for a moment that no one in his family would blab. But Cora and the twins are Grandma's darlings, and Laura cannot keep a secret to save her life. One of them were bound to spill the beans at _some_ point. And besides, he's pretty sure Talia would be beyond pissed off at her son basically pulling a long con on her beloved mother.

 

So. Enter Stiles.

 

”Hm?” he says, mouth full, because he's a grown man but apparently doesn't like to act it.

 

”What are your plans for Easter?” Talia's tone is friendly, but also carries the kind of weight that tells Derek that _quite a lot_ hinges on the answer.

 

”Uhm. Work, probably. Maybe spending some quality time with my thesis. You know, the usual.”

 

The smile on Talia's face makes red alert klaxons go off in Derek's head. ”Any chance you could get the weekend off? I was hoping to get _everyone_ together this year for our annual family trip to the cabin. And seeing as Derek hasn't seen fit to bring you home more often, I was hoping you'd come along so we could all get to know you better,” she says, her smile going wolfish.

 

Derek is _fucked_.

 

”You can't go,” Derek says the minute they're in the car after dinner.

 

”Sure I can, I just told your mom I would,” Stiles says, busy buckling his seat belt, not bothering to give Derek even a second's attention.

 

”I'm serious, you can _not_ go. I don't know how she found out, but she's definitely onto something, and if you give her more than a few hours in your company she _will_ expose the whole thing. She's like a bloodhound when she's got a hunch,” Derek says darkly, hands clenching on the steering wheel at the memory of too many teenage schemes completely and utterly foiled by his mother's disturbingly accurate bullshit detector.

 

”Dude, have you ever considered that maybe you and your siblings are just shitty liars?” Stiles asks with a snort. ”I can handle your mother, don't worry.”

 

”No one _handles_ my mother.”

 

Stiles gives him an amused look from the passenger seat. “You know, one day I'm gonna have to take you home to meet my dad. Trust me, dinner with your mom is child's play compared to being grilled by my _sheriff father_.”

 

“I'll take your word for it,” Derek grits out, still too preoccupied with the terrifying prospect of pulling off the part of happily coupled with Stiles for a full weekend with Derek's less than stellar acting skills.

 

“Whatever,” Stiles says airily as Derek pulls to a stop in front of Stiles' apartment building. “If she's really onto us we can always have loud sex.”

 

The door slams behind him, and Derek is left behind the wheel frozen in shock, because the thought legitimately never occurred to him before this, and he's having the startling realization that... _he wouldn't mind_.

 

It's not that Stiles is unattractive. In fact, Derek had chosen him over a couple of other prospects specifically because he fit Derek's usual type. Erica and Isaac had been helpful in providing some potentials, and while most of them could have worked, Derek had picked Stiles.

 

He's been telling himself it was the most believable option, because Stiles has the kind of duality that Derek can never help but be drawn to; large, innocent eyes and soft features contrasted sharply by brutal sarcasm and snark to rival Derek's own, and, yes, that's definitely part of it.

 

But Stiles is also smart, blunt and surprisingly honest for someone who's so good at pretending, and while he's not exactly into the same things Derek is, conversation flows easily, and it's been... well, _easy_. All of it has been easy. It hasn't felt like that much of a lie. More like embellishment or something.

 

Derek sits frozen in the car for long enough that he gets cold, having turned the engine off distractedly at some point. A light flickers somewhere nearby, and Derek's eyes seek it out on automatic before he realizes it's the shitty bulb in Stiles' kitchen that always flickers a few times before turning on properly. Which is quickly followed by the realization that he _knows_ that, and holy shit, how does he know a detail like that about his _fake boyfriend_?

 

The answer is stupidly simple, of course. He's been spending a lot more time with Stiles than he originally planned. First to get their stories straight, then to keep up appearances, but there was really no reason to hang out as much as he ended up doing.

 

He _likes_ Stiles, he realizes.

 

 _Dammit_.

 

All his great ideas about giving himself time to breathe without having to think about dating again for a while are rapidly swirling down the drain as he sits in his car in a dark parking lot, having a crisis.

 

He jumps high enough to almost slam his head against the roof of the car when there's a tapping on the window, and he turns to find Stiles giving him an unimpressed look.

 

“Dude,” he says, when Derek rolls the window down. “You're really not helping your image as a creepazoid right now.”

 

“A what?” Derek asks weakly, and Stiles rolls his eyes.

 

“Go home, Derek. And maybe sleep in tomorrow or something, I get the feeling you need to chill out a little.”

 

Derek would argue, but considering he's been silently freaking out in his car – for about half an hour now, the dashboard clock informs him – it probably wouldn't hold much weight, so he just nods and starts the car.

 

“Look, Derek,” Stiles says before Derek can close the window. “If you're really freaking out about me coming to the cabin-”

 

“No! I... no. You should come.” Might as well get it over with, as Talia is bound to find an excuse to grill Stiles at length at _some_ point either way.

 

“Okay. Okay, good. Guess I'll see you on Friday, then.”

 

“Yeah. See you,” Derek murmurs, and somehow manages to drive himself home without getting into an accident.

 

* * *

 

Easter has always been family time for the Hales, originally because Talia and her husband, Joseph, both happened to have time off from their jobs at Easter when the kids were all younger, and took the opportunity to get everybody out of town for a few days.

 

Derek always liked those trips. Soft spring weather, air fresh and new, everything budding in the forest where they'd all run around for hours, making an effort to forget all their sibling rivalries for just a few days. Even the trips where it rained non-stop had a sort of unreal and sentimental glow to them in Derek's memories. So it's a whole new experience to look forward to the trip with so much dread.

 

“Jeez, Derek, will you just chill for two seconds?” Stiles hisses at him as they pull up by the cabin, parking next to the four other cars signifying a full house already. “You've been grinding your teeth the whole trip here, and you look roughly as excited as I would be for a root canal.”

 

“Call my dentist if you care so much,” Derek snaps, making no move to get out of the car. He's spent most of the week choking on his anxiety, and trying to convince himself that maybe it won't be so bad. Trying and _failing_. He's absolutely convinced that by the end of Easter, Grandma will know and probably disown him, even though it's definitely _her_ fault he even had to take this drastic step.

 

Stiles stops in the middle of opening the door, slamming it shut again in favor of turning to face Derek with an angry jerk of his neck. “What the hell, Derek? Is it me? Is that what this is? I talked to your mom, and she told me you love these trips. So, _what_ , is it the prospect of having to share a room and bed with me for three days that's making you look like you'd rather be literally anywhere else? Because if it is, maybe you should just turn the car around now and take me back home.”

 

Derek had, in fact, spent quite some time freaking out over sharing a bed with Stiles, cursing himself for picking someone so goddamn appealing that it's gonna be hard reminding his sleepy brain that it's hands off. But he kinda forgets his freaking out for a moment in the face of the hurt radiating off Stiles right now.

 

“No, it's... no. Not you,” Derek grits out, forcing his hands to let go of the steering wheel. “I just... don't do well under pressure.”

 

“Are you _expecting_ a lot of pressure?” Stiles asks, voice softer, but with his brow furrowed in disbelief, and Derek can't help but mirror him.

 

“You're _not?_ You've met my mother, right? Well, my grandmother is more of the same, and the two of them together? You'll be grilled about your intentions every waking moment.”

 

Stiles grins and shrugs. “Well, that's easy. I'll just tell them I'm in it for your hot bod, and that won't even be a lie.”

 

He's out of the car before Derek has even processed that thought, and he curses silently as he scrambles to catch up. Derek is definitely gonna have to address Stiles' weird casual attitude about sex between the two of them as soon as possible.

 

“So, you're Stiles, huh?” Grandma Hale rasps, giving Stiles the stink eye even as she's shaking his hand. “Saw you two have a bit of a spat in the car before you came in. Didn't even kiss and make up. You're not coming off to a good start, young man.”

 

“Hey, nice to meet you Mrs. Hale, and I assure you, I was being a _very_ nice and _thoughtful_ boyfriend. See, I've been eating lemon drops all the way here, and you know how Derek feels about lemon, right? But lemon drops help me when I'm nervous, so he bought me a bag, because he knew I was worried about coming here and meeting you all. How adorable is that?” Stiles says without even stopping for breath, and Derek can only watch, gobsmacked, as every single member of his family coos and falls in love with Stiles in ten seconds flat.

 

And the worst part is that it isn't even straight up lying. Derek _had_ actually bought Stiles the damn lemon drops. Just to be nice. Derek _hates_ lemon. The taste, the smell, all of it. But _Stiles_ loves it, so...

 

“I'll go put our bags in my room,” Derek says, but doesn't get two steps before Talia stops him.

 

“Oh, sweetie, no, your little nook only has a single bed! You should take one of the guest rooms now that you've brought Stiles,” she says, eyes twinkling, and oh, god, Derek wants to _drown_ himself.

 

“Right,” he croaks, and rushes upstairs before anyone else can twinkle their eyes at him.

 

As a kid he and Laura shared a room at the cabin, but since she'd been bringing her high school sweetheart and later husband along for years, the room has been mostly Derek's alone. But now he's sitting on one of the guest room beds trying not to hyperventilate, because Grandma's room is on one side and his parents' room is on the other and this is gonna be a _disaster_.

 

Maybe he could appeal to Laura's sense of sibling loyalty and convince her to swap rooms, even though she and Craig have been set up in the small guest house behind the cabin ever since it was built to accommodate the growing family. The odds aren't great, though, and he's still moping when Stiles wanders in with a smile on his face.

 

“Dude, I don't get what you're so worried about, your family is awesome. I mean, I knew that from the ones I've already met, but they're _all_ super nice,” he says, flopping onto the bed behind Derek and making him bounce where he sits.

 

“Just wait,” Derek says ominously.

 

Stiles sits up, apparently for no other reason than catching Derek's gaze over his shoulder and rolling his eyes at him. “Derek, I think you need to lighten up and maybe have a little faith. Your family only wants what's best for you. I think that's nice.”

 

“Oh yeah, _really_ nice. Grandma hounded me for six months about dating, no matter what I said, and didn't stop until I brought you home so my mom could confirm you existed. Laura apparently missed the memo that I'm bi, and avoided me for like a month after meeting you, claiming I'd somehow deliberately kept it from her and hating me for not trusting her, which is gonna make it extra fun for her to find out I've been literally lying. Cora won't stop making crude jokes about my sex life, Dad keeps guilting me for not bringing you home more, and I'm pretty sure Annie and Emmett are like Mom's twin spies trying to catch me in a lie, because she's definitely been onto this whole thing from day one. And _when_ this whole thing is exposed I'll be in the dog house forever, Grandma will probably disown me, Mom will be disappointed, Dad will be hurt, Cora will laugh her ass off, and even though Annie and Emmett might be on my side in this they'll never say so openly, because they're Grandma's pets _and_ they're scared of Mom.”

 

Derek rants until he's out of breath, and Stiles watches him with eyebrows that have slowly climbed up to meet his hairline.

 

“Dude... you need to calm the hell down.”

 

“I _can't_ calm down,” Derek hisses under his breath, suddenly worried that his voice carries, even though everyone else is downstairs. “Because everyone will hate me and I'll have to endure several more years of non-consensual matchmaking, either until Grandma dies or I get married, the latter being the more likely because Grandma isn't gonna let a little thing like _death_ stand in the way of her rosy dreams for all of us!”

 

“Derek-”

 

“This is a _nightmare_ , why did I ever think this was a good idea?! It's a whole weekend, I'm gonna let my guard down at some point and let something slip, I just know it.”

 

“So what? We'll just wing it and argue about it like all couples do when one remembers something the other one doesn't. It'll be okay,” Stiles says, laying a gentle hand on Derek's shoulder, and he can't help but shiver, because it's warm and strong and he really wouldn't mind being closer than this, which is _also a problem_ , and he's feeling the pressure from all sides now.

 

“No, it won't be okay, Stiles. I'll fuck up, I always fuck up, I'm the fuck-up in this goddamn family, and everybody knows it-”

 

Stiles' hand squeezes hard. “Hey, no, I guarantee that's not-”

 

“It _is_ , and I'm gonna mess something up, either with my family or with you, it's inevitable, oh god,” he wheezes, and lets Stiles push his head down towards his knees as breathing suddenly becomes a struggle.

 

“Woah, there we go, easy, slow down, big guy. It's just a little anxiety attack, you'll be fine, just breathe with me, okay? Breathe with me,” Stiles says, voice calm and commanding in a way that reminds Derek a little bit of the sheriff. His breaths are slow and even, and Derek follows them until he can think straight again.

 

“Maybe you should consider telling them you're sick or something,” Stiles murmurs, rubbing Derek's back in long, smooth strokes, which is a little distracting, but also hugely comforting. “If you're this freaked out, you're actually kinda hurting yourself. Trust me, I know.”

 

He does know. He's told Derek honestly about his mother's death and his anxiety and ADHD and his life in general. He's shared everything with Derek, openly and kindly, even when Derek has been closed off and borderline hostile at times. It's more than Derek deserves.

 

“What did you mean, by the way,” Stiles asks when Derek doesn't speak for a while, “when you said you were gonna mess something up with your family or with _me_? I thought the whole point of me doing this was not having to deal with relationship stuff fucking up?”

 

“It was. But you... you weren't supposed to get to me,” Derek says sadly. He might as well lay it all out there. Things can hardly get any worse anyway. “I'm sorry, I not good at any of this. I thought a fake relationship would be easier than a real one, but it turns out I can't do that either without making a mess of it.”

 

“I get to you?” Stiles presses, and Derek nods.

 

“You keep talking about us... like we're an _us_. Like you actually want me. And I can't... seem to keep track of what's acting and what's not,” he admits. It's praise for Stiles' abilities, really, because managing to fool the one person who's actually in on it must be the height of accomplishments.

 

“Well... I wouldn't worry too hard about that,” Stiles says, fidgeting behind Derek. “Cause you're not wrong.”

 

“Huh?” Derek finally straightens up and faces Stiles, only to find him biting his lip and looking supremely awkward, hand sliding off Derek's back, making him miss the contact in about a second and a half.

 

“I... haven't been acting. Per se.”

 

Derek blinks at him. “What?”

 

“I haven't been acting, okay?! I've just been pretending to myself that you're asexual or wanting to take things slow to remind myself not to touch you or kiss you.”

 

“... _what?!_ ”

 

“That's why I didn't want you to pay me or anything,” Stiles says, eyes dropping to where his hands are gripping his knees. “It was nice just pretending to date someone hot and rich, who also turned out to be completely fucking adorable. I don't usually get this lucky,” he murmurs, and Derek just stares at him, because _what_. “And... I'm sorry I couldn't keep my damn feelings to myself. I should have stopped this when the lines started blurring. I really am sorry.”

 

“You're too pretty,” Derek blurts, and Stiles looks up with a frown.

 

“What?”

 

“I picked you because you're so pretty,” Derek says, trying to explain what's going on in his head with his usual level of clarity, which is _not much_. “But I've hated myself for it, because sharing a bed with you and trying not to touch you at all for a whole weekend was gonna be torture. Especially when you kept talking about us having sex. I knew I was gonna fuck it up. That's what I meant. When I said I was gonna mess up with you.”

 

Stiles looks torn, a small smile teasing at his cheek, even as he's frowning. “You... you think I'm... pretty?”

 

“And smart. And amazing. But apparently not a great actor after all,” he jokes, and Stiles shoves at him.

 

“Shut up, asshole,” he says, but he's grinning, and Derek shoves back, though that ends up backfiring spectacularly when Stiles pulls at him instead of pushing him away, and Derek lands half on top of him with a huff.

 

“You really think I'm amazing?” Stiles murmurs into the small sliver of air between them, and Derek nods.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Then you should really be kissing me right now.”

 

Derek can't really argue with that, and he also doesn't want to. So when Annie slams open the door twenty minutes later without warning she gets more than an eyeful, and Derek laughs until his stomach hurts, cheek resting comfortably against Stiles' soft skin.

 

“I think your alibi is solid now,” Stiles hiccups, and Derek can only agree.

 

End.

 


End file.
